


The Note

by FujoshiForBrownies



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Gen, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 17:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FujoshiForBrownies/pseuds/FujoshiForBrownies
Summary: Summary: even the strongest can break, and Yuri’s tried his hardest not to, choosing instead to withdraw into himself instead of letting others see his weaknesses. Juggling his skating career, a lack of family (and having to provide for the people he now calls as such), and the stress of a childhood he'd rather forget, Yuri spirals further and further into a depression he's determined to keep hidden.





	The Note

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: hi everyone! Normally, i tend to write small stories that never get finished, but i was scrolling through photos I had, and was struck with this idea. It's based off what has actually happened with Yuri (or Yurio, depending on how you refer to him) and that's the base idea. What happens later on is what i imagine could happen to him. Anyway, here it is. I hope it's okay? Written in second-tense (i think that's what you call it at least) and i hope that the last few parts don't come across as rushed *^*

Yuri sighs, running a hand through his long blond hair before his hand drops, mindless of the minute squeak of the door as it opened, revealing Victor’s overly emotional blue eyes and long silver hair, one that mirrors Yuri’s almost perfectly. Feeling his protective shield rise up yet again for the millionth time today, Yuri smirks and flicks his eyebrows up as if he's challenging Victor to talk to him. When really he wants to curl up into a ball and close his eyes, readily succumbing to the memories he knows will fill his mind yet again.  _ The fights when he came home from ballet, the endless ridicule and scorn whenever he brought up ice skating and the one straw that had broken his back that one night, the insults hurled at Yuri when he had expressed the want to go to the Pride Parade. _ Scars still lace Yuri’s arms from that one night, both mental and physical. It was so hard to return back home after a whole night of wandering the streets, kicked out by his own parents, to face people who felt like complete strangers.

 

“I’d like to practice your routine one last time before performances start.” Victor says, and Yuri rolls his eyes even as he begins to lace up his skates, trying not to let anyone see how badly his hands are trembling, just barely holding himself together with a dread that has nothing to do with the performance that's coming up. Yuri’s eyes smart and he blinks rapidly, swallowing down all the words he  _ wants _ to say. Like always. There's no such thing as a free world, no, not to him. _ You're supposed to be someone that the world can tolerate, and if you can't do that, you're as good as dead.  _

 

Yuri’s hands fumble again and he drops his head into his hands, instinctively tensing when he feels something - or rather someone - skim his legs, resting on his skates. Peeking through his fingers and the fringe of his soft blond hair, Yuri can see Victor kneeling in front of him, already starting to tie his laces for laces. Like he's a freaking _ child _ . Yuri’s hands move of their own accord, slapping Victor’s hands away with a sharp cracking sound, tears finally blocking his vision. Like a kid who's had a temper tantrum, Yuri curls into himself and cries, softly. Just like how Victor had been tying his shoes. 

 

“I'm not a kid, Victor. Don't tie my freaking shoes for me.” Yuri snaps, and after a few tries, manages to get them securely tied. Standing, Yuri makes his way out into the crowd, instinctively trying to spot one person- the only little remnant of his family. His grandfather, Nikolai Plisetsky. Not like he was ever there, though. After the divorce, after all the fights, Yuri’s grandfather just seemed to….to slip away. He suddenly stopped coming home. Living in that empty house, that insipid mockery, Yuri had made a choice. A hard choice. Leaving what had never once offered him any love, Yuri took up skating as a career. Not just a way to hide, but a  _ destiny. _ Something he was meant to do.

 

“...Yuri… _ Yuri _ !” Victor steps in front of Yuri, his bright blue eyes wide, and Yuri gasps, actually stumbling backward a few steps before he manages to lean against the wall. Adopting the ice-pick look in his eyes, Yuri locks his death gaze on Victor’s and for a few seconds the challenge goes on, undisturbed. When the silverette finally looks away, Yuri smirks again, thinking he's won. But when he sees what - or more accurately, who - Victor is now watching, the familiar ache in his chest starts again.  _ No. not going down that way.  _  Leaving Victor, Yuri steps onto the ice rink, pushing his way rudely past Yuuri, who just stares at him.

 

“What,  _ katsudon _ ?” Yuri challenges him, actually leaning up to get in his face. Just like the first day they had met. He won't admit it out loud, but there's a fondness in his heart for the amateur skater that he's only just begun to notice. Yuri cheers him on like Victor and the rest do, but JJ always manages to drown him out somehow.  _ Damn that Canadian.. _ Yuri grumbles. “Your practice is up, so  _ move _ .”

 

Yuri pushes past the startled -and slightly annoyed- Yuuri, and takes a deep breath once he feels his skates touch the ice. A soft breeze plays with his hair, a phantom hand, but then it's gone, and Yuri’s gone again. Or at least that's what he thought for a second. The next second, he can feel Victor standing behind him, ready to guide him if necessary.

 

_ Too...close… _

 

Yuri can feel anger as it boils in his chest, filling him until his whole body is buzzing, buzzing with that anger. Just wanting to hit something or someone. This urge to fight was something Yuri has had to suppress underneath this false exterior for so long that he nearly forget how it felt; that irrepressible feeling, the ecstasy once it reaches it's inevitable peak. When he was younger, Yuri would hit the walls and his bed until Nikolai had let him take up martial arts.  _ Not like that lasted very long. Think I made the instructor scared.  _ Yuri’s seeing everything through a red haze, and as much as he wants desperately to pin it down and ignore it, he can't. Whipping around, Yuri’s eyes lock with Victor’s again, and then he sees, as if from far off, Victor backing away. He hears his voice come from a million miles away, tinny and furious, all the emotions he's held down finally boiling over.

 

“Leave….me alone. I didn't ask for you to stand so freaking  _ close! _ ” And then Yuri realizes what he's done. Gasping, Yuri’s eyes close and he runs off, past the rink and everyone around it. Past Victor, past Yuuri, past Yuuko. Shutting the door behind him, Yuri slams his fists - which are still clenched - into the closed door again and again until his head pounds. Collapsing onto the floor, Yuri crawls over to his locker, opening it with aching hands. But they will never ache as much as his heart and pride do in this very moment. Pulling out a small piece of paper, Yuri scrawls a note onto it with shaking fingers.

 

_ to: well, pretty much everyone. first of all, if this is victor, yuuri, or yuuko or anyone reading this, i beg you to stop right now. please. the people i want to read this first are lilia ~my ballet coach~ yakov ~my skate coach~ and my grandfather, the only family i have left, nikolai plisetsky. i don't want you to suddenly start grieving me when you see this, and i know you'll see me before you see the note because that's how it goes in every single movie, isn't it?  _

_ listen, this isn't the first time i've ever snapped at anyone, so don't think i directed it at victor. he's an amazing coach, even if he did leave me for yuuri. please _

 

Yuri’s fingers tremble, smearing ink across the page. Clearing his throat, even though he knows it's a useless move, he tries to finish the note.

 

_ The truth is, i've been living on my own for so long and i don't like people. call me antisocial, but i have a reason, silly as it is, huh? When i was a kid, i was constantly yelled at and bullied for everything. i love all of you, victor, yuuri, yuko, minami, otabek. oh god i love you so much otabek and don't give me that crap saying that if i loved you i'd stay alive because that's not how it works.  i don't like sharing my feelings, but i doubt you'll read this anyways. I leave my regards….i have a ring in my bag. If i don't get it to Beka, please let him find it. I know it's cheesy and oh god why am i saying this?! I'm not romantic… _

 

_ i'm sorry for what this will cause….. _

 

Folding the note, Yuri walks over to his bag, pulling the only thing he has resembling a rope out. A long, rainbow striped scarf. The one he's worn countless times secretly with Otabek. And now, it'll be his saving grace. And someone else’s grief. Standing on the bench, Yuri reaches for the beam he knows is there, but stops. The door isn't locked, and he doesn't want to be bothered during this. He doesn't want to explain. Walking over, Yuri locks it and then double checks. Walking back, Yuri stands on it again, barely able to breathe through his tears.  _ God, this is so freaking hard. Why why why.  _ Pulling the scarf around his neck, Yuri loops one end of it around the beam and ties it there, toeing the edge of the bench.

 

_ What if this doesn't work?!  _ But the gods were on his side in this last, final moment. His side.

 

As Yuri’s feet leave the bench, he smiles slightly even as he can't breathe. It was as his eyes close and his heart stops that Victor and everyone else finally open the door. 

 

_ “Yuri!”  _


End file.
